


At the late night double feature picture show

by TaleWeaver



Series: jonsa halloween [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, What happens at the con stays at the con, or maybe not?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:35:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27247384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaleWeaver/pseuds/TaleWeaver
Summary: In her alter ego of Alayne Gravestone, Sansa hosts 'The Schlocky Horror Picture Show', showing obscure (usually for good reason) cult movies on a small cable tv channel and youtube. Jon discovers them during his first year of university, and when he volunteers for the Winterfell branch of a pop culture convention is assigned to Alayne Gravestone’s live broadcasts and panels as her minder.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Series: jonsa halloween [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1985888
Comments: 4
Kudos: 46





	At the late night double feature picture show

**Author's Note:**

> For @jonsa-halloween Day Four: Monster (movies)
> 
> I had the idea for this for almost two years; in despair at ever writing it, I decided to at least do the picspam for it... only to find myself writing the setup and key scene anyway. I may come back and expand this to the whole planned fic, but don't count on it.

His first full moon at Winterfell University fell on a Friday night, and everyone else in his dorm seemed intent on drinking until they blacked out. Jon, who’d been traumatised by several high school parties - including one where a complete stranger had thrown up on his crotch - rolled his eyes and stayed in, enjoying the chance to get the big TV in his suite to himself. Just before midnight, he’d started channel surfing, stopped on something called “The Schlocky Horror Picture Show” and that was when he’d come across _her_.

 _Alayne Gravestone_. 

Hair kissed by fire, ice-blue eyes, and skin like weirwood bark, displayed in a form fitting dress layered with enough black feathers to leave at least a few crows squawking about a sudden chill.

She had awesome taste in cult horror and sci-fi movies, and a line of lovingly sarcastic critique and trivia that sent his neurons firing, as much as her captivating appearance did his hormones.

Every Friday night afterwards, Jon made sure he had popcorn to hand for the movie... and tissues and lotion to hand in his bedroom afterwards as he fantasized about the lovely breasts that discreetly peeked out of Alayne’s low-cut neckline, only partly obscured by the silver skull that held the dangling chain of her necklace in it’s teeth.

His affinity for horror movies led him to the SFX film club, where he met Satin and Sam. Satin, an aspiring costumer and long-time cosplayer (he was apparently quite well known on youtube) talked both him and Sam into volunteering at Winterfell Supanova over the Winter Solstice break. Sam heard that one of his favourite fantasy authours was a special guest, and came on board instantly. Jon was a harder sell... until Satin told him about a Winterfell exclusive guest, hosting a live broadcast of her show on Friday and Saturday nights.

* * * * *

Jon hadn’t had a chance to meet his idol, but had still had a fun, if stressful time, anyway. Seriously, who collected lunch orders and money from half the dealers in the merch hall, before leaving it on a fucking table _unattended_ and wandering off to catch a panel?

“Jon, it’s bad! It’s really, _really_ bad!” Sam whimpered, late Friday night.

Jon waited patiently. Sam was extremely good in a crisis... as long as you gave him a minute or two to seriously lose his shit first.

“It’s the panel for Schlocky Horror!”

Wait, _what_??

“That idiot Bowen Marsh fiddled with the broadcast laptop, even after I told him not to touch it! Miss Alayne’s pre-recorded slideshow’s been deleted! It’s due to start in ten minutes, and it’s a _live broadcast_ , Jon, we can’t delay it.”

“It’s a con, nothing runs to time,” Satin reassured him. “Everyone knows that.”

“Not the tv channel, Satin, and they gave us sponsorship money because of this.”

Jon’s mind whirred into high gear. “Okay, first thing, we need to have something to show that co-ordinates to her live monologue, because that’s where most of the humour comes in and it’s part of her trademark. Sam, do we have Saturday’s stuff intact?”

Sam heaved a sigh of relief and nodded.

“So we just let her know that we have to switch. She must have both presentations down.”

“But we can’t get to her, Jon, she’s in the green room getting ready and no one’s allowed into the panel room until they start the broadcast – they wanted shots of the audience coming in and to make sure no one touched the set.”

“So we make it part of the show,” Jon muttered. “Satin, you were talking about that Goth cosplay stall at lunch, yeah?” Satin nodded, and Jon continued, “Head down there, ask if we can borrow some stuff, if no one’s there get it anyway and we’ll put it back and hope no one notices, we’ll give them some money back off their stall fee or something. Sam, you’ve got that haunted house door knock sound effect on the laptop, yeah? For the indie film panel tomorrow?”

Sam nodded.

“I’ve gotta get changed,” Jon muttered, and headed for the garment bag he’d hung on the coat hook with his messenger bag.

“Change into what?” Satin hissed.

“I was asked to be stand-by pinch hitter for Oberyn Martell’s VIP dinner, he demanded semi-formal wear for everyone. Good thing my outfit’s all black.”

“Accessories only? On it!” Satin dashed away so fast he almost left an after-image on Jon’s vision.

“Do you need anything but the sound effect?” Sam asked.

“Um... maybe a lapel mike?” Jon hazarded, his voice muffled as he stripped off his volunteer tshirt.

Five minutes later, Jon was shrugging on his suit jacket, as Satin approached bearing a cane topped with a silver skull in one hand, and a black top hat, complete with a mourning cockade pinned to the band, in the other.

Satin placed the hat on Jon’s head as he offered Jon a faux momento-mori ring. “Here, put this on your right hand and carry the cane in your left, and give her the scroll with your right.”

“Scroll?” asked Jon.

“Sam scribbled one up to give her the news. I also grabbed a business card off the dealer’s table, and I’ll give it to the broadcast crew so they can add it to the end credits if possible. Might as well give them a plug, yeah?”

“Sure, why not?” Jon muttered. “How soon to the opening?”

“Audience is coming in now. Just wait for her to acknowledge you and head through the curtain there, you’ll come out at the end of her set. Here’s the scroll, break a leg!” Satin grinned, and disappeared.

Jon was pretty sure Satin couldn’t _actually_ teleport, he was just very sneaky and Jon was nervous. Probably.

He heard a crash of applause, and moved to the curtain, quietly so as not to set off his lapel mike. He heard her voice indistinctly, so Jon opened the curtain just enough to let sound through, but not be seen. 

Sam’s personally mixed haunted house door knock echoed ominously.

“Suddenly there came a tapping,” came the voice he’d hung onto for months, “As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.”

She could quote Poe off the cuff, too? Jon was in _so_ much trouble.

Slipping through the curtain, he moved to the coffin-inspired throne in the centre of the set, keeping his eyes down so he wouldn’t start drooling or worse. Going to one knee, he held up his cane as a War of the Five Kings era knight might hold his sword to his Queen. Jon took a deep breath and channelled his inner Igor. 

“Mistress.”

“Why, if it isn’t the Undertaker. What brings you to my chamber on this stormy night?”

Sam let off a quiet thunder effect in the background.

Was he imagining a sultry tone to her voice? Jon dared to raise his head to address her, and found himself staring directly at Alayne’s glorious cleavage. He bit back a whimper and swallowed. “I bear an urgent missive from the Funeral Director.”

It was just as well that Jon had previously decided on the ‘funeral _director_ ’ wording to tip her off to a technical issue, because Alayne in real life was quite possibly the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen, and Jon was losing coherency, as he tended to around beautiful women. As it was, the words came out less creepy or spooky than he intended, and more reverent. 

“Very well.”

A pale hand with black-laquered nails entered his vision, and Jon pulled the scroll from his pocket – yes, Satin, using his right hand – and surrendered it to her.

Alayne slid off the violet ribbon – that perfectly matched the mourning cockade; Satin’s need for co-ordination in fashion was getting out of hand – and silently read the scroll.

“Ah, my faithful Undertaker, you can always be relied upon to keep me informed. You are dismissed, but I may wish to speak with you later, so keep close at hand.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Jon intoned, and slowly stood – alright, so he took one last peek at those gorgeous tits – and backed away and through the curtain.

The show went off without a hitch, and Jon was rewarded with a personal audience with Alayne Gravestone – who introduced herself as Sansa, before thanking him, Satin, and Sam for keeping things running so beautifully. 

On Saturday night, packing up the set turned into late-night supper at the food trucks, and a blushing Sansa giving him a grey post-it note (shaped like a tombstone) with her phone number on it in silver ink.

“In case you’d like some poetic inspiration up close.”

Jon immediately asked her out for next Saturday night, but didn’t understand the ‘poetic’ bit until Monday, when a sniggering Satin showed him the con’s facebook page.

SPOOKSHOW BABY: who else was at the Alayne Gravestone broadcast/screening last night? Anyone see the Undertaker before? H-O-T with a capital everything!

LIVING DEAD GIRL: Never showed up before, unfortunately. Is he her IRL boyfriend or something? I mean, the way he was gazing at her boobs...

SPOOKSHOW BABY: Yeah, but not in a sleazy ‘show me your tits’ sort of way. In a worshipful ‘let me write odes to your exquisite bosom’ sort of way.

LIVING DEAD GIRL: Yeah, def. If he isn’t, you think I could get his number?

Several months later, the Undertaker was making semi-regular appearances on “The Schlocky Horror Picture Show”, and both his outfit and Alayne’s new dress, courtesy of Satin, had received high praise from Satin’s Theatrical Costuming instructor.

And then... Jon discovered the Alayne Gravestone/The Undertaker section of AO3.

If the picspam doesn't show up (as usual) my tumblr entry of this is [HERE](https://nessataleweaver.tumblr.com/post/633234754020540416/fic-at-the-late-night-double-feature-picture-show)

**Author's Note:**

> CLOSING CREDITS  
> Title taken from the song 'science fiction/double feature' from The Rocky Horror Show.  
> Supanova is a real pop culture convention here in Australia, and the incident Jon mentions comes from the stories of a friend of mine who volunteered at the convention for years.  
> 'the schlocky horror picture show' is a real tv show, which screens on foxtel aurora channel 173, plus other community stations around Australia (channel 44 in Adelaide, midnight on Fridays). It is hosted, however, by talking skeleton Nigel Honeybone and has shown all the movies on the poster. Shiver in fear. You can find him on facebook, youtube, horrornews.net and the professor's horror host tome website. It’s unknown whether he knows Billy Bones of chocolateghost’s Spookulele Tunes.  
> ‘Spookshow Baby’ and ‘Living Dead Girl’ are both songs by Rob Zombie.


End file.
